


Interruptions and Private Moments

by isnt_it_pretty



Series: Of Broken Hearts and Kindred Spirits [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Chronic Pain, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Headaches & Migraines, Hickeys, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Making Out, Mental Health Issues, Not graphic just mentioned, bad self care, emetophobia warning, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 07:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21050519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnt_it_pretty/pseuds/isnt_it_pretty
Summary: Ingrid and Dimitri are gone for the night, meaning Felix and Sylvain can relax without fear. Of course, nothing ever goes quite as planned.





	Interruptions and Private Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, this document was literally called Cockblock Dimitri.
> 
> I hope y'all know how long I waited to reveal Felix with glasses. You're welcome.
> 
> Hmu on twitter or intsa @isnt_it_pretty, but know i don't really used either of them, but will probably respond to messages.  
Actually want to talk? Discord: Canadeath#1368

“How are you feeling?” Felix asks. They’re cuddled on his bed, much larger and more comfortable than Sylvain’s. 

“Well, I passed all my exams,” Sylvain says, as if that answers Felix’s question. The look on his partner’s face tells him it doesn’t. He sighs. “Better, I think. I managed to eat today without being sick, so that’s something.” He’s resting his head against Felix’s chest, his boyfriends arms wrapped tightly around him. Blankets are piled around them, adding a level of comfort. The warmth of the house is nice, compared to the brisk chill outside.

It isn’t as cold at Garreg Mach as it is back home, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t uncomfortable outside. His dorm room is perpetually cold, no matter how many blankets he piles on himself. It makes his shoulder ache, but Felix has made a point of telling him to cut down on his painkiller usage. Jerk.

“Good,” Felix replies, which means way more than it sounds like. Sylvain can tell, partly from knowing Felix for so long, and partly from the way he holds him just a little bit tighter as he says it.

Felix has been worried, even though he hadn’t said as much. He would probably never admit to it, but it was obvious. Over the last few weeks Sylvain had received more texts and surprise “study” visits from Felix then he had in the past months of dating. He even went as far as to start bringing him soup, which seemed to be the only thing he could hold down. 

Anxiety induced nausea was probably the worst kind, because there was no relief that came after. He spent days in bed, unable to move without heaving, and threw up stomach acid more times than he really cared at count. All for a degree he didn’t really even want. Felix held him as he vomited, rubbing soft circles into his back, breathed with him through panic attacks, and slept with him wrapped in his arms. Sylvain never thought he’d see Felix be so affectionate, but he is. Just, not when someone else is around to see it.

At least exams are finished, and they have a few weeks of Christmas holidays before the new semester starts. Sylvain is staying at Garreg Mach again, he hasn’t been home since he first moved away, but he expected Felix would go with Ingrid and DImitri. However, he’d only rolled his eyes when Sylvain asked when he was leaving. With his roommates gone in a couple days, Felix told him that they’d be spending the holidays at his place, instead of sharing that stupid twin sized bed in his freezing room. Byleth would probably drag them, and Mercedes, to Christmas dinner with her dad, as has become customary.

Sylvain hums happily, enjoying the comfort of his partner. They’ve been dating for four months now, and it’s probably the happiest he’s ever been, even as a child. Mercedes has noticed it too, since she’d said as much the other day. How much better he seems to be doing with Felix around, somebody to ground him. He shifts, letting his forehead rest against the crook of his partner’s neck. He knows Felix can feel his breathing against his collarbone, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just readjusts his arms to keep Sylvain anchored in his new position.

“When do Ingrid and Dimitri get back?” he mutters, relaxing further when he feels one of Felix’s hands move to run through his short hair.

“Tomorrow, Ingrid is going to be too drunk to drive back.” They’d gone to one of the many Christmas parties. This one thrown by Claude and Hilda, at the house they rent with Lorenz of all fucking people. Rich daddy squad (Well, the other two. Claude’s more of a rich grandfather type). He knows Dorothea and Petra were planning on going, and they were even trying to convince Ashe to join them. Dear sweet Ashe deserves better than the play The Sober Friend all night, and mom everybody. Well, Mercedes will be mom-ing, even while drunk she’ll still wander around with water bottles.

He makes a noise of recognition, and breathes into the touch. Fuck, he’s been so tense the last while. It’s amazing how easily he relaxes in Felix’s presence. Holidays have always been hard on him, and it’s only gotten worse since starting university. Exams, followed by his parents guilting him about not coming home, and their constant phone calls about so-and-so’s pretty daughter. 

“How’s your shoulder today?” Felix asks. The hand in his hair stills after a moment, “Sylvain?”

Oh yeah, he was asked a question. “Fine, been using that heating pad you got me to keep the cold from bothering it.”

It had been a thoughtful gift. Felix walked into his dorm and chucked the box at him, saying he was tired of Sylvain complaining about how the cold hurt his shoulder. He didn’t press, besides the heating pad was glorious. How had he not thought of it himself?

He feels Felix open his mouth to say something, and pushed out of his grip. “Felix,” he says, “you’re fussing. I’m fine, I promise.” Well, that’s partly true. He's exhausted and drained, which his partner seems to pick up on.

“Can I help?”

Sylvain honestly isn’t sure where Felix learned to ask that question, but it’s nice. Even if most of the time he doesn’t know what to say. Emotions are weird like that.

“I don’t know,” he answers, shrugging. “I like being close to you.”

“Mhmm?” Felix says, kissing the top of his head softly. 

Eh, fuck it. He moves his head, and leans up to capture Felix’s mouth.

Their lips meet with practiced ease. Kissing Felix feels as natural as breathing, and about as comfortable.

Suddenly, there’s too many blankets around them, too much between them. He straddles Felix’s waist, angling down to kiss him harder, hungry. They haven’t done anything in the last couple weeks, with Sylvain as stressed as he’s been. Maybe this is just the way to relieve that last bit of tension.

His hands slip under Felix’s sweater, grey and loose. Its soft and comfortable, but Sylvain decides he wants it off.

Of course, as always, Felix has other ideas. He may rarely initiate sex, but he certainly enjoy it when they have it. He pushes Sylvain to the side, under he gives and rolls over to his back, allowing Felix to straddle  _ his _ hips, and wow, okay, he’s really turned on.

Felix bites down against his throat, and Sylvain  _ moans _ . “F-Fe,” he says, letting his hands go back to Felix’s torso. One hand is in Sylvain’s hair, pulling softly, the other is thumbing against his ribs. 

For somebody lacking in experience, he sure learned quickly, learning where to touch to get the desired reaction. 

“Off,” Sylvain says tugging at Felix’s shirt. 

He obliges, pulling it off his lithe frame and tossing it to the side. He pulls his undershirt off at well, before turning his attention back to Sylvain. He unbuttons his shirt, and carefully maneuvers Sylvain out of his. He isn’t wearing his brace today, which honestly makes it all the easier. As harsh as Felix can be, especially to other people, it's times like these where he’s the most gentle partner Sylvain’s ever had.

He turns his head, allowing Felix better access to his neck, and then freezes.

“Felix,” he says, eyes drawn somewhere completely different. 

“Hmmm?” he asks, running his hands along Sylvain’s body.

“Are those glasses?” sleek black metal bends around rectangular lenses, and Sylvain _ knows  _ he’s never seen them before. They’re resting on Felix’s nightstand, next to the lamp. They kind of look like they’ve been tossed there unceremoniously. 

“Are what-?” Felix leans back, squinting at his nightstand and - “Fuck,” he scrambles to grab them, and shoves them in the top drawer, slamming it shut. 

Sylvain blinks at him, sitting up. “You-”

“Don’t.”

“You have glasses?” 

Felix groans. “Don’t remind me."

The look Felix gives him is enough to curdle milk, was Sylvain holds fast. Felix. Felix in  _ glasses. _ That’s a look he could really get used to. He sits up. “I’ve never seen you wear them before,” he points out.

“Because I often don't,” he says. “I only had them there because I had to study with a migraine, and forgot to put them away after.”

Sylvain creases his eyebrows. “What do glasses have to do with migraines?”

“I’m,” he starts before sighing. “I’m supposed to wear them everyday, but they make me look stupid, and my vison is fine. They are just... useful, sometimes.”

“Wait,” Sylvain says. “You’re supposed to wear them  _ everyday? _ ”

“That’s literally what I just said.” Felix is glaring at him, and okay he really doesn’t want to talk about this, but it seems important enough the Sylvain really thinks they should.

“So, I don’t wear my brace and it's the end of the world,” he begins. “But you don’t wear your glasses, and it’s fine? No fucking wonder you get migraines. Jesus Fe.”

He reaches his hand towards Felix, and wraps his fingers around the back of his neck, pressing against the base of his partner’s skull. 

Felix  _ melts, _ falling back into him, and practically moaning. Sylvain discovered pretty quickly that he can bribe his boyfriend to do almost anything with a massage.

“No wonder you’re so tense all the time,” he whispers, moving his other hand to start working at the muscle as well. “Your eyes are probably perpetually strained.” 

He receives only a grunt in response.

“You should wear them,” he tries to suggest.

“No.”

“Felix-”

“Absolutely not,” its muffled against Sylvain’s stomach.

“For me?” he pushes on a particularly tense spot. 

Felix doesn’t answer, and Sylvain knows he’s won. He smiles, bending to kiss Felix’s hair. 

“Come on babe, please?” he keeps working at the tense muscles. “I think it’s hot.”

“Ugh,” Felix groans. “You’re insufferable. Fine.” 

Sylvain continues working into the muscle, enjoying the soft sounds Felix makes as he does. There isn’t enough time in the universe to work the trigger points from his boyfriend’s neck, so when his shoulder starts to ache from the effort, he stops.

Felix lays there for another few moments, before he sits up and glares, full force, at Sylvain.

“I hate you.” he says, before leaning over the bed to open the drawer of his nightstand, He pulls out a bottle of lube, condons, and of course, the glasses.

“No you don’t,” Sylvain replies as he reaches over and pulls him into a kiss again. He grabs the glasses as he breaks the kiss, sweet and chaste. He holds them up, raising his eyebrows.

Felix grumbles something unintelligible as he snatches them from Sylvain, and slips them on his face.

And, wow. Yeah, that’s a good look on him. A really good look. Uh, what was he thinking about again? All of his brain functions seem to stop at once because Felix is glaring at him. Hair a mess, blue sweater draping off him and jeans hugging his curves,  _ fucking glasses  _ drawing attention to his eyes. God, he’s hot..

“What?” he snaps, but he’s turning red as Sylvain stares at him.

Sylvain doesn’t respond, just lays back and pulls Felix on top of him. He lets himself caress his partner’s sides, under the sweater, while Felix goes back to absolutely  _ destroying _ his throat and collarbone. 

Caspar’s gonna have a hell of a reaction when he sees the amount of hickeys and fucking bite mark’s he’s covered in. Oh well, not like its the first time.

They’re still hardcore making out, Sylvain moaning quietly at the feeling of Felix’s hands on him, when suddenly the bedroom door opens.

“Hey Felix, I need to borrow-” Dimitri stands there, taking in the scene before him.

Sylvain freezes, entire body tensing. Felix snaps his head around, probably to send Dimitri the strongest death glare he’s ever seen.

“I, uh-” he’s going bright red as he obviously realizes what’s happening.

“Get. Out.” Felix growls, actually honest to God  _ growls. _ His hands on Sylvain’s biceps are gripping hard enough they’ll probably leave bruises, not that Sylvain is even paying attention.

No, his breathing is picking up, because oh my God, Dimiitri is standing there, looking at  _ him.  _ Him underneath Felix, covered in bruises and bite marks.

“R-right, my apologies” he stutters, as if  _ he’s _ the one who should be losing his goddamn mind. “I’ll just-” he closes the door.

Felix is off Sylvian in a heartbeat, grabbing their discarded clothes. Not because he’s concerned, Dimitri has probably seen him shirtless more times than either of them want, especially considering he walked in  _ without knocking. _ But he’s doing it for Sylvain’s sake, who is desperately trying to breathe as everything comes crashing down.

They can hear Ingrid shout somewhere else in the house, which really isn’t helping the situation.

“Are you okay?” Felix asks, running a hand through Sylvain’s rumpled hair. It’s a stupid question, they both know it. No he’s not okay, he’s on the verge of a fucking panic attack.

Still, he cracks his best smile and says, “Well I mean, my boners gone.”

Felix huffs. “Yeah. Dimitri tends to have that effect on people.”

Sylvain can’t help it. He laughs, the tension breaking a bit. It’s okay,  _ he’s _ okay. He’s got Felix here, and friends that support him, it will be fine. Probably.

“You should go talk to them,” he says suddenly, “before Ingrid decides to burst in here.”

Felix furrows his brows. “They can go fuck themselves for all I care.”

He shrugs. “Sure, but also it’s just going to make it worse if we don’t deal with it.” He knows he’s right, Felix knows it too.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No,” Sylvain answers honestly. He lets out a shaky breath. “But you’re here.”

Felix is blushing now. It looks good against the black frames of his glasses. “Idiot,” he mutters before climbing off the bed. They can still hear Ingrid and Dimitri talking, although not the words that are being said. He watches as his boyfriend climbs off the bed, and opens the door.

“Ingrid, you can’t-” they hear DImitri saying, but the voice stops at the sound of the door opening.

Sylvain watches Felix disappear down the hall.

Fuck, he can’t leave him to bear this shit alone. Not when  _ he’s _ the reason they don’t know yet. 

“Felix, I can’t  _ believe  _ you!” Ingrid shouts. 

Okay, yeah, he really can’t abandon Felix to this fate alone. But fuck, the idea of walking out there makes him nauseous.

“I don’t see why this is of any importance to you,” Felix says, and he can imagine the daggers he’s glaring at Dimitri.

Fuck it. He gets up.

“Mercedes told us to leave him alone, and you’re  _ fucking him?! _ ” Ingrid is loud enough to wake the fucking dead. “I cannot believe you. How long has this been going on? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He steps out of the room, shirt and hoodie on.

Felix is leaning against the wall in front of him, arms crossed. Ingrid is standing a metre or so from him, face red with anger as she shouts. Dimitri is not far behind her, looking down. Likely feeling guilty about this entire situation. Good.

“You- Sylvain,” Ingrid says, surprised as he steps up just behind Felix.

“It isn’t his fault,” he starts, but Felix turns to him.

“Sylv,” he says gently, “you don’t have to do this. You don’t owe them anything.” His eyes are soft, the way that’s saved only for them, only for their most tender moments, and Sylvain finds himself glad that the others can’t see it.

“I know,” he replies, putting a reassuring hand on Felix’s arm. He thumbs at the muscle there, trying to show that this is okay,  _ he’s _ okay. “But I can’t let you take the fall for this one alone.” Taking a deep breath, he drops his hand and looks back to his two childhood friends. They look older. Ingrid has cut her hair since he’s last seen her, while it seems Dimitri is growing his long. “I asked him not to tell you,” he explains, somewhat uncomfortably. “It’s just a lot, and I wasn’t ready for you to know yet.”

Ingrid looks like she’s about to say something, but he holds up his hand. 

“Ingrid please, let me finish. This isn’t easy for me,” he takes a shaky breath, and allows the feeling of Felix at his back to calm him. “I was scared, and I pushed you away because of it. I  _ hated _ myself, and couldn’t bear the thought that maybe you would hate me too. So I ran. I left you all behind, and then I heard you were here and I just  _ couldn’t _ , I’d spent so long hiding, I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. But then Felix came along and offered everything I’d always wanted,” he shrugs. “So I took it, but it didn’t stop me being scared. So we hid it. I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you, any of you,” he makes sure to look at Felix. “I should have reached out, but I didn’t. Instead, I left..”

He wants to say more, but can’t really find the words. How can you express seven years of self hatred, shame, and grief in words? How can a person describe what he’s feeling, torn between two worlds? Stuck between the expectations of his family, and the person he  _ loves?  _

“That,” Dimitri begins, “actually makes a lot of sense.”

Sylvain looks to him, honestly a little surprised. Ingrid also looks stunned.

“I mean,” he continues, “we just thought you hated homosexuals, but you don’t. You just didn’t know how to reconcile your own orientation, and your view of others’.”

“You know you can say gay, right?” Felix bites, arms still crossed. “Who  _ actually _ says ‘homosexuals’ in conversation?”

Sylvain can’t help it. He laughs, even with Ingrid still glaring at him. Although, it seems she’s softening. When did she last hear him honestly laugh? Probably before high school, maybe even before that.

“I’m sorry,” she says eventually. “That you didn’t feel like you could trust us. That we didn’t push harder. We should have.”

It sounds like the same thing Felix told him, all those months ago.

He shrugs, still smiling at Dimitri’s blush from being called out. “It isn’t your fault. I pushed you away.”

Dimitri clears his throat. “How about we all agree to start over? Move passed whatever happened, and try to be friends again.”

Sylvain nods, trying not to tear up, because wow this is way more emotional than he thought it would be.

“So,” Ingrid asks, “are you two actually dating then?”

He nods. 

“For how long?” Dimitri asks.

He glances at Felix, who shrugs, signaling he doesn’t care. “About four months?” Sylvain replies.

“How the fuck did you manage to hide this for  _ four months?! _ ” Ingrid shouts, more from shock than anger. 

Honestly, Sylvain doesn’t have an answer to that question.

She looks to Felix, horrified. “Wait, when I asked if you had hickeys and you said you were mugged, you fucking lied didn’t you!”

Felix snorts, “No shit, you think somebody could honestly mug me?”

“I’m sorry,” Sylvain says, cutting in, “ _ what _ happened?!”

A glare is shot his way from his boyfriend. “You not remembering to stay below the neckline. That’s what.”

**Author's Note:**

> "What were Dimirti and Ingrid doing back?"  
Dimitri needed a phone charger, for an old Nokia flip phone. For some reason he thought Felix had one. He doesn't. Ingrid drove his slightly intoxicated ass back to the house.


End file.
